


Where You Belong

by suyari



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Ascension Compliant, Families of Choice, Family Issues, Gen, Orphans, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers, emotional insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: There were nights he’d wake up, breath caught in his chest because he felt trapped in a hollowed out Kaiju corpse or his stomach ached because it was empty and he was too afraid to go back out into the street and chance it, curled up in a corner, sobbing his heart out alone and terrified and lost to the shadows of all the places Kaiju had crossed. He’d wake and he’d know. Could feel whose nightmare, whose memory it was and whether or not they’d been similarly afflicted or it had drifted up all on its own, the remnants of their time spent together. The ashes of their past finally floating into one of their consciousnesses and taking them along for the ride they never had time for in the conn-pod.





	Where You Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Can't stop. Won't stop. 
> 
> I love these kids.

Jinhai was the calm in the center of a nearly otherworldly storm. As soon as the ‘Dome had been fixed up and returned to full functionality those of them that had been made Rangers were moved out of the Academy Barracks and into Ranger Quarters. He knew from experience that Co-pilots lived together as a general rule, most times long after they’d ceased to be capable of piloting or started families of their own. It was difficult to separate after sharing the same mindspace for so long and as far as he knew the only true way to separate Rangers from one another after they’d been Jaeger deployed was for one of them to die, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee. 

He’d spent the majority of his life watching his parents living with a Drift so strong it carried through to everyday life for a full decade after they’d last been in a Jaeger together and showed absolutely no sign of slowing or otherwise breaking down. He’d spent nearly half that time desperately seeking out that same sort of comfort for himself, not really understanding what it meant. Now that he had it, it seemed as if all the jagged points in his life that had spent so long tormenting him like thorny barbs trapped beneath his skin had been smoothed over by a vast sea; while they still existed, they were no more bothersome than stray grains of sand. There was more grit as well, taking in all that Vik and Amara were also meant sharing their burdens. Jinhai had never given that much thought, but as the days went by he was more and more grateful that the Drift provided them the comfort and reassurance they required to move on from their pasts. 

There were nights he’d wake up, breath caught in his chest because he felt trapped in a hollowed out Kaiju corpse or his stomach ached because it was empty and he was too afraid to go back out into the street and chance it, curled up in a corner, sobbing his heart out alone and terrified and lost to the shadows of all the places Kaiju had crossed. He’d wake and he’d know. Could feel whose nightmare, whose memory it was and whether or not they’d been similarly afflicted or it had drifted up all on its own, the remnants of their time spent together. The ashes of their past finally floating into one of their consciousnesses and taking them along for the ride they never had time for in the conn-pod. 

If it was Vik and she was awake, he’d offer to spar with her. Amara would feel the echo of their contact and wander into the Kwoon half asleep and trailing something - a pillow, a blanket, someone’s sweater. She’d drop to the edge of the mat and flop over and half the time fall back to sleep as if their proximity was all she required to allow the vulnerability of unconsciousness to overtake her. If she didn’t sleep, she lay on her side or her back and watched or tossed out commentary until she felt settled enough to relax. 

If it was Amara and she was awake, Jinhai had options. Sometimes all she needed was to know that they were there. He’d sit up and she’d blink at him while her breathing slowed. They’d hold one another’s gazes until they lay back down and she’d close her eyes after a while. Sometimes he’d have to get up and go sit with her. Back propped against the wall and legs stretched out beside her. She’d watch him for a while then either turn over or turn into him and eventually she’d calm down. Sometimes she wouldn’t calm and they’d go into the Jaeger Bay and sit and look at the sleeping Jaegers or find some work to do. Vik would wander in eventually, grumpy and unhappy and pick up a tool and get to work without a word. 

Sometimes, if he was the last awake, he’d lay in his bunk and listen to the soft crying. Knowing it was worse to interrupt either of their emotional purging, knowing they’d only really tolerate a little comfort when they felt so weak and helpless. Knowing it was better to let them give it to each other. In the morning when they were all awake, they’d bump into him on purpose, little brushes of bodies that spoke entire speeches. They’d go to breakfast and they’d tangle their legs beneath the table and they’d laugh and joke until they didn’t feel the weighted pit in their stomachs. 

When it was his turn, when his memories, his nightmares came to visit, he’d wake to find himself between them. They never spoke; they didn’t need to. Half the time neither of his co-pilots would even acknowledge that they were awake, that they had crossed the short distance from their own bunks to his and climbed in to comfort him. Vik and Amara didn’t do touch the way Jinhai did. Both so starved for it they couldn’t quite process contact that wasn’t meant for any other reason than to motivate or defend. If it wasn’t a violent meeting of bodies or an affectionate shove, they couldn’t handle it, didn’t welcome it. But Jinhai had spent his entire life reaching out, he needed the reassurance of touch and all that came with it. And when he needed it, they gave it to him, quietly, without comment, and pretending like it didn’t strengthen the bond between them because they did it of their own accord. If they weren’t feigning sleep, they’d look at him, meet his eyes until he could feel their souls brush. Vik would hold his gaze and Amara would reach up and gently guide his eyelids closed then cuddle closer, pressing her face into his neck while Vik threw an arm across them and they closed him within their collective embrace. Hands to arms and shoulders pressed close, legs curled up together and everyone’s hair in his face. His heart would slow and one of them would pat him over the chest and he’d fall asleep, because in those moments, he was the safest he would ever be. His co-pilots would not let anything close enough to cause him harm, and as long as they were wrapped up together, nothing could touch them. 

Their bond was young, but it had been tried and it had passed. Combat and evacuation and the blinding panic of their escape pods jettisoning into different areas...Climbing free and feeling one another still alive but too far to reach out and touch while in the midst of a rampaging Kaiju. The wild draw that pulled them back to one another until they were clutching each other close on the ravaged streets of a city once more lain waste by a monster from the deep. The bond they’d forged then had been deep and absolute, and every time they climbed into the conn-pod or Mock-pod, every time they drifted together, it only got stronger, only bound them closer together. 

At first, being able to actively feel one another’s emotions out of a pod and in real time was a bit discombobulating. To start, one had to be aware of one’s own feelings acutely enough to realize the emotion they were being swept up in had nothing to do with them. That was generally where it ended for most Rangers, but Jinhai, Vik and Amara had needed to learn one step more, which encompassed first identifying the emotion as not their own and then determining the origin of the emotion from one of two separate individuals. On any given day, Jinhai might find himself swinging into an emotional reaction out of nowhere, going from relaxed and otherwise content to immediately prepared to throw down. Unfortunately, he was the calmest of the three of them, and his co-pilots were both rather prone to...disagreements. 

In general, they were good about being as professional as they could manage. But that did not temper emotional flares and given their interconnectivity, could cause minor issues which may or may not lead to a sudden group shunning. They were still working on it. 

It was because of this connection however, that Jinhai was fully aware of just how much inner turmoil the next inbound transport was causing. The new Marshal would be arriving, which was enough of a change to have anyone unsettled. But his parents were also accompanying the Marshal, wanting to see him and his Jaeger and meet his co-pilots. Jinhai was happy to have co-pilots to introduce his parents to, proud to have a pair of co-pilots at that. But Vik had been raised by a distant Grandmother who had only grown more and more emotionally draining as Vik got older. A Grandmother whom she’d had to support and care for, despite her feelings of betrayal - whom she loved deeply despite those same feeling - at a tender age via means she wasn’t proud of. And Amara had been orphaned and left to fend for herself in the aftermath of a vicious Kaiju attack that had caused her to grow up far too quickly and learn how to care for herself by means she still couldn’t face as a reality that she’d miraculously come out the other end from. Needless to say, neither of them felt they could ‘do parents’ and as the only one of them _with_ parents, Jinhai knew in a way he had no control over, _**he**_ was unintentionally responsible for the growing anxiety. To make it worse, their anxiety was feeding into one another’s, which only strengthened the insecurity, which in turn caused them to feel a loss of control, and any attempts by him to comfort or console them were entirely unwelcome. Even when he wasn’t even actively doing anything more than trying to calm his own response to their flaring emotions, which basically boiled down to suiting up and locking themselves in the conn-pod of their Jaeger for the duration of his parents’ stay. 

A Ranger’s first instinct was to protect their co-pilots. No one would fault him for it, least of all his parents, but he still felt a little ridiculous for the path his mind had chosen to pursue. It wasn’t as if Vik and Amara didn’t have exposure to his parents through his own memories. They knew them. Knew them as if they were their own parents. And perhaps, that was the true heart of it. 

Jinhai hadn’t given much thought to how his co-pilots might react to meeting people they knew intimately for the first time. It was his own failing, and he felt as if he _should_ have thought of it sooner, given he was the one with the most experience between them. But he hadn’t, which meant as the hours ticked by, counting down to his parents arrival, his co-pilots became more and more agitated. It wasn’t until Vik and Ilya got into a screaming match in the hall that he’d thought to do anything tangible about it though. Amara had come out of nowhere, beating him to them most likely not because she was closer, but because her highly wound emotional state had alerted her much sooner than him. He’d grabbed her as soon as he saw her, feeling her battle ready, in a defensive need to both protect her co-pilot and herself. She shrieked at him in an impressive mix of Chinese and Russian, limbs flailing wildly with no actual intention of making contact. He hefted her up in one arm, holding her close to his side as he scooped his free arm around Vik and dragged her away, inching backward down the hall with Amara yelling at the top of her lungs and Vik so ready to fight she clung tightly to his arm and struggled through every step that took them _away_ from her best possible outlet. Ilya didn’t follow. Jinhai didn’t know if it was because he understood, or because he’d been interrupted on his way to or from visiting Suresh in medical. Regardless, he was fully aware that the only reason they made it back to quarters at all was because everyone present had allowed it to happen. 

Ilya had let them leave, had not once pursued. Vik may not have liked it, but she allowed herself to be shepherded away. And for all that Amara was small and light, she could have easily gotten him in several sensitive areas that would have had her free of him if she’d truly wanted. It was just another case of needing to be held and not knowing how to go about achieving it. Even knowing that to be the case, Jinhai made sure not to focus on it too much, else risk them realizing and really trying to break free. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to track them down and coax them back in time if that happened. 

As soon as they’d gotten back to their quarters, Vik had broken free so she could viciously prowl the small area between their bunks. Jinhai closed the door, Amara tense but otherwise limp in his arms and crossed the room to drop her into his bunk. He’d opened his mouth to attempt conversation but Vik had rounded on him so quickly he’d thought better of it and instead climbed up to occupy her bunk so she couldn’t climb up herself because once she decided she wasn’t moving, there would be no moving her and it would be so much easier to try to get her to cooperate if he didn’t have to get her _down_ first. 

The last two hours of his parents trip in flight, Jinhai spent perched on the edge of Vik’s bunk while she paced and Amara crossed both arms and legs and glared hard at the ceiling. 

He wished he knew what he could say. Wished he knew how he could comfort them. There was absolutely no reason to be so afraid of meeting his parents. They would be so blind with happiness that he had co-pilots, they would love both of them more than they’d ever loved him. 

Vik paused. It took Jinhai a moment to realize she had; he’d gotten so used to the sound of her boots clomping rhythmically back and forth. He only really looked up because of the sudden irritation he felt, from her towards him. Once he had looked up however, it was to find both of his co-pilots looking at him. 

“What?” he asked, unsure of where he’d misstepped. 

Amara sat up, folding into a lotus position, arms tucked close. He wanted to drop from his perch and embrace her because she looked completely vulnerable and he did not like how his own body responded to it - antsy and twitchy and with violent intention. 

Vik sighed heavily and raked a hand through her hair, looking down at Amara. Abruptly her shoulders sagged and she dropped down into the bed beside her. 

Jinhai was on his feet and stumbling to his knees in front of them before he even registered an emotion that required processing. He rested one hand to each of his co-pilots’ knees and tried to push forward how very much he wanted to help, even if he was more lost than ever. 

Amara shuffled on the bed until her body aligned with Vik’s and she was closer to Jinhai than the center of the bed. She fussed with her hair, tucking it back repeatedly a few long, tense moments before she reached over and met Vik’s turning hand. Their fingers folding in against each other. 

“I really don’t mean to be such a Kaiju case, guys,” she sighed, gaze fixed on Jinhai’s hand. He squeezed her knee supportively, but didn’t otherwise react. He knew, could feel, that if he was just patient everything would sort itself out. He needed to trust his co-pilots to fix the problem on their own and take him along for the ride, instead of trying to lead by example - a fact which he fully acknowledged very rarely worked with them. 

Vik leaned into Amara, brushing their shoulders together. 

“It’s just...I haven’t-I mean, it’s just more adults. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” 

Vik tucked their joined hands into her lap. 

“I don’t...This is so _stupid_ but I really, really want them to like me and I don’t even know how to get along with people my own age! How am I supposed to…”

Vik’s lower lip folded up between her teeth. 

“Guys...do you honestly think my parents aren’t going to be over the fucking moon to meet you?!” He waited until they’d each tentatively met his eyes. “Most people want their kids to grow up and get married and have babies. My parents don’t want Grandchildren. They have never wanted in-laws. All that’s ever mattered to them is that I find a co-pilot. I have **_two_**. They’re probably going to hug you until you can’t breathe and won’t let go for anything short of a Breach alert.” 

“Just because they’ll be happy for you doesn’t mean they’ll be happy with us,” Vik replied. She said it low, into her lap and in Russian, so it took him a minute to process. 

“And even if they are,” Amara countered in English, forcing Jinhai’s brain to reroute. “That doesn’t mean they’ll love you any less.” 

Jinhai dropped his head, letting his brow press against the mattress. There was no winning an argument like the one they found themselves in. There was no real way to properly win any battle that did not involve the three of them on the same side and their enemy on another. 

They sat in silence for a while. Amara’s hand drifted to the back of his head where she idly began to scrub at the hair against his nape. Despite the turmoil of the situation, Jinhai found himself relaxing into it. His legs adjusted beneath him, until he was sitting on the floor. His movement sparked their own. One smooth transition that brought them both bowing over him, cheek and chin to his head, Amara’s hair brushing his neck and both their arms around him. Their joined hands separating so they could wind their arms about one another. 

How long they stayed like that, he didn’t know. But when the knock sounded at their door, none of them moved or answered. They just kept holding each other, a lock of bodies to protect minds and hearts, to protect each other from threats both without and within. 

“Guys?” Ranger Pentecost said gently after stepping in. “You okay?” 

The door opened wider, Ranger Lambert following his own co-pilot in. “Hey, what’s going on in here?” 

“Nate, just...give ‘em a moment, yeah?” 

The door closed again after a moment, and the soft tread of boots wandered over. A hand touched Amara’s back and then Jinhai’s. “Yeah, you guys just breathe. Come out when you’re ready; only when you’re ready. We’ll keep ‘em busy while we can.” 

Amara’s head shifted, and her arm retracted from Jinhai so she could reach for Ranger Pentecost. Jinhai could feel them connect, feel Amara smile gratefully. And then she was burrowing back in against them and Vik’s arms were tightening proprietorially. Jinhai shifted so they were holding each other rather than leaning against one another. 

The door opened and Ranger Pentecost gave a bit of a laugh. “Sorry, they’re regrouping in there. Best to leave them to it. They’ll come out when they’re done.” 

“Oh of course!” Jinhai heard his mother say, pride in her voice. 

There was a soft grunt from the Marshal and Ranger Pentecost shut the door. 

“We could stay in here for days,” Amara whispered into their huddle, her anxiety bubbling up in the form of a giggly sort of hysteria. “They totally owe us.” 

They did. Or rather, they all sort of owed Amara. And she was more than willing to use that to their advantage. 

Vik hummed. “Best to keep that for later,” she said. “When we need it most.” 

Jinhai sighed in relief, feeling his co-pilots balance out. Vik stroking Amara’s arm and the two of them leaning forward into his chest. 

“Either way, it buys us time with the Marshal, but I would definitely not underestimate my parents’ desire to meet you. And we really should make a good impression.” 

He felt them both agree to the latter statement. They were still new and they needed to build their reputation. If nothing else, they’d have to report to the Marshal’s office within the hour or risk losing face. 

Amara pulled back far enough so they could see each other. “Do we really want to be the _last_ team to meet the Marshal?”

Vik straightened, her pride giving her courage. 

Jinhai gave a one shouldered shrug. “It isn’t like the Marshal wouldn’t understand,” he informed them. “He sort of has a history.” 

“Who _is_ the new Marshal?” Amara asked, looking from him to Vik. “I’ve kind of been so worried about meeting Jin’s parents that I didn’t really pay attention.” 

Vik shrugged, but didn’t look happy about not paying enough attention herself. 

“Until everything settles down, or goes ass up again, we’re going to be serving under Marshal Hansen.”

Two pairs of wide eyes stared back at him. 

“Marshal Hansen,” Amara deadpanned. “Marshal _Hercules_ Hansen?!” 

“Yeah.”

“Marshal served the entire war, has piloted every generation of Jaeger, lost my only son to Historically end said war and has the highest Kaiju kill count in HISTORY Hercules Hansen?!”

Jinhai nodded slowly. 

“OH MY GOD!!” 

Jinhai ended up on his ass on the floor as Amara leapt to her feet. 

Vik was reaching down to haul him to his own feet in almost the same breath. 

“Are we less worried about meeting my parents now?” 

Amara ran over to the mirror to check that her uniform was unsoiled from an earlier stint down in the Jaeger Bay. Vik turned him quickly by the elbow and gave him a shove toward the door. 

He marched the distance, Amara hurrying back to grab him by his arm and tug him out of their quarters. 

“I’m going to assume that’s a yes?” 

“Da,” Vik replied stoically. 

“Jin move your ass!!”

He could feel their excitement vibrating straight into his bones. But let them drag him a bit because it was only fair given how much they’d all suffered earlier. 

“If I’d have known it was this easy, I would have made sure you knew much sooner!!” he informed them as they paused in the hall to both meticulously - and unnecessarily - straighten his uniform. 

“ _Herc Hansen_ ,” Amara squeaked. “Pinch me I’m dying!!” 

Vik reached out and dutifully ensured she was not in fact asleep, unconscious or otherwise trapped in a coma. 

“Ow,” Jinhai complained, rubbing his arm even though Amara only jumped up and down to release the steadily rising energy. 

Vik smiled at him, but it was in no way apologetic. 

Amara rushed between them, linking her arms in theirs and starting forward with sure steps that would have dug her heels into the response pads in their conn-pod. It was a decidedly less than military level professional response but the warm happiness suffusing their bodies meant neither he nor Vik felt particularly inclined to correct it. 

It would sink in later, much, much later. The fact that to the rest of the world they were just as important, just as famous as the heroes they’d all idolized so long themselves. But Rangers Lambert and Pentecost seemed to agree that in the Shatterdome none of that mattered. All that mattered was that they stay true to one another, keep their bonds stable and their skills honed, that they train as often as possible and that they be ready when the time came. 

Jinhai thought they had that pretty well in hand. And he knew no matter how many times they faced the unknown, they’d always have one another to fall back on. If that bridged a few unforeseen gaps, all the better. 

He only wished it would work half as efficiently in protecting him from the bond his mother instantly formed with Vik and Amara. But, if that was his only real worry for the rest of his life, he’d live with it happily.


End file.
